


Name

by zezo



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Drunken Confessions, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 16:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19360489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zezo/pseuds/zezo
Summary: Anthony J Crowley recently went through the process of changing his name. But there's something in it that intrigues Aziraphale, and he won't give up until he gets an answer.





	Name

~~Crawley~~ …

Anthony J Crowley, that's his new name. Known for being one hell of an demon, what it also meant a ton of paperwork. Something he left for the people he now needs to get the name change done. And they weren't quite happy with Crowley's work methodology.

 

Hell's office of legal department, as you can imagine, is not a nice place to be in. It is said that only the worst kind of people, only the ones who dare to commit the worst kind of atrocities end up working there; such as the human who created paperwork, it is said they are the ones in charge of the place.

The light is dim and flickers every thirty seconds; halls are thin, covered in black goo and terribly signaled, you would get lost at least five times before arriving to your destination, even if you knew the place; nobody really has an office technically speaking, their workplace is more similar to an overcrowded cubicle maze and if the ambiance wasn't enough to make you leave at sight, the marvelous treatment you are bound to receive from it's workers certainly will.

As you can imagine the process of changing one's name through Hell isn't an easy one. And the demon in charge of it seemed to take pleasure in making the process as tedious and intrusive as possible.

“And the reason for the change is?” the voice of the demon attending him was high pitched, he spoke above the ordinary volume level, still not loud enough to be considered screaming, all of the above accompanied with a southern US accent, as if it was specifically designed to piss off people.

Crowley smiled impatiently tapping on the desk while the fiend stamped one by one the largest tower of certificates he'd ever seen. “Most humans have a name and a surname, it would make my job of bleeding in a lot easier.”

“But why would you change your given name?” He stopped stamping the pile with the excuse of needing more ink. As if he couldn't miracle it. “And given that you are doing it so, why stopping at the change of one only vowel?” He tilted his head in search for an answer.

“Humans can't seem to pronounce it right.” The demon didn't quite accept the answer but went back to the stamping, thankfully faster than the before.

At one point the demon turned the paper stack as in to say 'sign it now'. Crowley picked up a pen ready to get it over with, when the demon in charge of the paperwork grabbed his wrist and staring directly into his eyes threateningly and asked “And why would you add a simple letter in between? A 'J' ? What's that all about?”

Crowley freed his wrist from his tight grasp, it left some burnt marks on his skin.

“S'just a simple J. S'nothin' to it.”

He rapidly signed everything and turned around with the intent of leaving this cursed place as soon as possible.

“We'll be watching you…” The creature smiled widely as he gave the scripted send off characteristic of their workplace. “Anthony J. Crowley”

 

Of course they would, they always do, but it's not like he can't lie to them. He just did.

Crawley. That's the name of an evil creature. While Crowley's kind is technically "evil", he doesn't want a name that automatically puts him on a box.Crowley isn't one to like pretentious names. He wouldn't obviously slap a J in the middle of his name for the sake of aesthetic. But there was something about this word. This new addition to his name. That needed to be kept private. This name was a way of acknowledging what he was and coming to terms with it.

In the end, why he added 'Anthony' was the only truth he said during the whole interview.

 

Most people were quite accepting over Crowley's new name. The fact that he is a demon who could make the life of anyone who dared to pronounce his deadname miserable, might have helped in the process. Although that wasn't very important to him, they were just mere mortals and ,as much as it bothered him, sooner or later they would end up dying along with the existence of his deadname. Time would keep going without them.

But there was someone who knew it and wasn't going to die anytime soon. Worst case scenario he would get "inconveniently discorporated" and that isn't enough for erasing thousands of years worth of memories which made the situation far more inconvenient. Aziraphale, his college for weirdest job anyone has ever had, his best and only friend through the milenia, is the one that troubled him.

 

As much as he had wished been able to properly plot their reunion, there was not time because when it comes to this angel, you don't even need to speak about him for something bad to happen.

Once again duty called and the demon saved his angel (and his books, because Aziraphale loves books oh so much and Crowley knew making him happy would help him overlook the fact that he just bombed a church)

 

"Care for a ride?"

Aziraphale got in the Bentley with the biggest smile Crowley had ever seen. He beamed happy and peaceful but at the same time anxious, as if something was bothering him. Fidgeting with the piece of rope he had previously used to transport the books and checking the drivers sit every few minutes. This went on until they arrived to their destination. None of them were leaving the car.

"Crowley, my dear… " he looked just exactly as the last time Crowley had seen him. But this time he could feel grief radiating from his eyes. It had almost been a hundred years where people come and go, but pain cannot be erased.

“Yes angel?” His mind could only wonder. Last time they talked, it didn't end up well. He's had almost a century to plot this but all the scripts, all the plans, all the words he carefully schemed throughout the decades didn't seem to make any sense now. It wasn't as bad as he expected tho.

“I am sorry for what I said in the park.” His voice, even softer and higher pitched than usual, the look in his eyes… “I got carried away, but the thought of losing you, my dear?” He faced the floor closing his eyes and clenching his fists. “I know I was being egocentric but I couldn't bear with it.” He looked up again, opening his wet blue eyes; he was really sorry, wasn't he?

Crowley sighed. He placed his hand under the angel's jaw, raising his head so they could make eye contact “I know angel, and I am so sorry too” He took of his sunglasses. His eyes were now in the verge of tears and his voice started to crack “I know what it sounded like and I understand why you got so upset. Is just that…” He made a brief pause in order to take in some air and placed his hands on Aziraphale's shoulders “I need you to trust me, Aziraphale. I am a demon and even if it sounds stupid, your trust is the only good thing, the only thing I have left.”

Aziraphale was speechless for a minute. Then he smiled as he offered his hand for a handshake, bursting into laughter surprised, when Crowley pulled him into a hug. The demon quietly sobbed in his arms not wanting to let go as the angel gently patted his back, whispering words of reassurance.

“I'm here.” “I will never let you go.” “You are my best friend.” “We're safe.”

 

When they finally separated Crowley was as red as red wine, trying to clean himself but needing to stop every now and then because of his own embarrassment induced laugh. Aziraphale thought it was adorable and the color of Crowley's skin gave him an idea to stretch the meeting just a little longer. 

“If you're up for it, I've got a few bottles of Spanish wine in the backroom.” He puts his best effort in sounding as confident as possible. It's not even worth mentioning how much he absolutely miserably failed.

 

Crowley nodded displaying a playful grin, following Aziraphale to the backroom of his bookstore a place he hadn't visited in a very long time. Everything was almost exactly as he remembered: bookshelves filled with rare books as far as the eye can see (now filled with even more books); the familiar bookstore aroma formed by a mixture of hot chocolate, old books, rare wine and Aziraphale; the candid light that covered the entirety of the bookshop making it feel warm and cozy… One of the few changes he noticed is the telephone Aziraphale had proudly hanging among his various antiques. Crowley had not been awake for a long but he could tell it was already antiquated. He wondered amused with the new communication possibilities and keeping in touch of this new century.

Once in the backroom, Aziraphale offered Crowley to open the first bottle which he proudly did, serving a glass of wine for Aziraphale and then one for himself.

“Cheers!” 

The angel smiled as he raised his cup. “Cheers!” 

 

A few bottles in, Aziraphale was sitting on the couch playing with Crowley's hair, who laid horizontally resting his head over his friend's lap.

“You know what darling, I've always fancied your eyes. Is such a shame that you don't expose them more often” Aziraphale started to draw circles in Crowley's hair using his fingers.

“They are a constant reminder of how I'll never fit in.” He turned his body slightly, facing Aziraphale's stomach. He would be really comfortable if wasn't for the topic of the conversation.

“But demons don't look 100% human.”

“And?” He replied roughly but without raising his voice. His anger didn't have to do with his angel. He was angry with Her and Her 'ineffable plan'.

“Oh.” Even though Aziraphale knew he didn't like the other demons, for some reason this felt more personal. “If I'm not misunderstood, humans love this kind of diversity.” he made his best attempt in comforting him.

“Only when it contributes to what they consider acceptable or pleasing, if not they tear the odd one out to pieces physically or psychologically.” At this point Crowley's mind was filled with memories of countless occasions in which humans have persecuted him for being an evil spirit. They were not wrong but it still hurt.

“If I were a human and I saw someone with such a precious pair of eyes, I would only be able to admire their beauty.” And the beauty of their owner, Aziraphale thought to himself which made him smile.

“Oh shut it, angel! If you were a human you'd probably end up chanting 'Burn the witch!' among with the rest of the people, 'cause the clerks thought taking the younger monks to the pyre was a great field trip idea!” Crowley started the sentence with confidence, almost shouting, progressively backing down as Aziraphale's face became more unreadable.

Then there was silence. Aziraphale started at Crowley with a blank expression, then he chuckled loudly.

“No, no, no I would probably be the scared monk who tries to convince everyone not to burn the 'witch' ending up getting myself burnt for obstructing the inquisition”

Crowley breathed again in relief. “I can imagine you falling in love with the alleged witch”

“If the alleged witch happens to have beautiful amber eyes, don't even doubt it.” Luckily for him, Crowley was way too drunk to understand any kind of flirting. He took a long sip of wine finishing his glass.

 

“But now, seriously” Aziraphale rubbed his eyes a bit thoughtful “What does the J stand for?” Aziraphale giggled “Anthony Jennifer Crowley?”

Crowley sat down and poured more wine into his glass “S'just for aesthetic”

“Anthony J Crowley, we've known each other since the garden of eden, the creation of this planet, and you expect me to believe you've change your name for the aesthetic?” He placed his hand on the serpent's shoulder. They should sober up for this kind of conversation but none of them seemed to want it.

“What if I told you that it means Anthony Janthony Crowley, would you believe me?” he smiled sadly, trying to dismiss him.

“Dear, you've literally been through hell to do this? Why do you keep lying?”

“S'a secret.”

“Oh. Then how about if I tell you one of my secrets and you tell me yours?” Aziraphale knew his secret wasn't going to be nearly as juicy, but he lose anything by ~~tempting~~ trying to convince the snake.

“I don't see why not…”

“Here goes nothing.” The angel nervously patted his lap, like a drumroll. “I've learned how to dance.”

“That's not a secret!” Crowley yelled disappointed. With all the set up he expected the angel to say something like 'I accidentally started the prohibition'.

“Maybe not in your lot, but angels are not supposed to dance. I am the only angel who knows how to dance.” The demon then smirked. He had an idea.

“If you want me to tell you my secret, the price just raised”

“What , you cannot do that!”

“Well my secret is really secret and if you really want to know it then later you shall let me dance with the only dancing angel from all heaven” He knew how sappy that sounded like, and hated himself for it, but alcohol often encourages him to erratically loosen up about his feelings.

“I accept your conditions. Now tell me.” His face was almost as red as a rose, he would later blame that on the alcohol. “What is your full name?”

 

“Anthony Jettison Crowley. Find it fitting, find it ironic.”

The angel stood there, thoughtful. _Jettison_. He never thought of it that way. Crowley often said that he didn't mean to fall. Aziraphale was hopeful that meant one day he could be redeemed: because he regretted his bad deeds. But such an specific word. Jettison, thrown away, abandoned. Is that how Crowley felt about Heaven? Did Crowley ever try to go back?

“What you don't like it?” 

“No, it's not that.” The angel realized his friend wasn't more evil than the ones in charge of giving him commands. “I just realized that Heaven can burn in Hell.” 

Crowley smiled nodding “Yeah, Heaven can burn in Hell.” 

 


End file.
